Hot Springs
by NightWolfMoon
Summary: America is female but has been masqurading as male all these years. There have been many times she was ready to finally tell the other nations and stop the charade, but it never seemed like the right time. Alone with Japan for a week, though, secrets have a way of getting out.
1. Chapter 1

_**For a while near the beginning, when it switches to Japan's point of view, America will be referred to as "he", but after the discovery is made, the feminine pronoun will be used for her throughout. I hope that doesn't confuse anyone.**_  
_**This is my first romance, so I hope you all like it, and please feel free to offer constructive criticism. The scene at the end of this chapter... Well, when I was telling my friend, SmallKitsuneFlame, about this fic, I asked if I should keep it just as a sweet romance or add something... more. She said to just keep it a sweet romance all the way through, as she cannot picture me writing anything even citrusy. So I took that as a bit of a personal challenge. It's not a long scene, but... Okay, I should just shut up.**_  
_**I hope you all enjoy the story! :)**_

It was hard for America to believe that the uptight, über-conservative Japanese man had found it within himself to lie about the dates being changed just to keep the blonde nation from being late again. It made her a _week_ early, and she was beyond pissed now, her brother only making it worse.

Canada found it just _hilarious_ when he'd been called upon America reaching the Tokyo airport, wanting a ride so she wouldn't have to take a cab.

"Oh, shut up, Mattie," mumbled the annoyed nation, standing by the baggage claim area. "Ugh, and I can't believe my boss was in on it!"

"Why not?" asked Canada, his bolder speech likely gifted by moose milk or some other alcoholic beverage. "He's probably been tired of your shit too. At least this will make you think twice about being late."

It was usually hard for most to tell when Canada was drunk; however, his higher volume and swear words being thrown into his vocabulary were very good indicators.

He didn't get all whiny and angry like England did or even boisterous like his new boyfriend, Prussia. He'd get more talkative, loosen up some, his face would turn red, and then he would just fall into deep sleep—sometimes still talking, which America had always found entertaining.

Pouting, America replied, "Hey, I was early to a meeting once, and I didn't need to be tricked to do it."

"That was during _World War Two_!"

America had to hold her Blackberry Q12 away from her ear for a second, hoping no one overheard.

"Fine, I get your point," mumbled America as the alert came for the baggage. "God, but Honda of all people. I'd expect a trick like this from maybe Arthur or Francis, but not Honda!"

"I'd make a joke about quiet ones, but that's more me than anyone, really."

Irritation ebbing somewhat, America chuckled, spotting her red, white, and blue suitcase and retrieving it.

"Just have fun," Canada said before letting out a yawn. "How long until the charm fades?"

"I'll have to reapply once I'm there," replied America, heading towards where she could hail a cab. "My chest hurts a little too."

"I keep telling you to just come out. This secret isn't worth more broken ribs."

America frowned, but her twin had a point. She used a charm—the only magic she'd retained from her and Canada's days before colonization—to deepen her voice, and while binders worked much better than previous procedures to make her chest appear flat, it still caused pain, ranging from it being harder to breathe to a rib (or two) actually cracking due to the constant pressure.

Her newest one fit more like a tight tank top and had Velcro on one side so she could let air in, but it could still be uncomfortable. At least her breasts weren't as big as, say, _Ukraine's_.

She never would have been able to keep up this image if melons like that had sprouted from her chest. Today's binders could flatten large breasts, but the bandages and customized corsets America used to use?

Small blessings, though Canada kept questioning why the secret needed to be kept, especially when even Prussia now knew, having popped over to Canada's house for a surprise visit while America had been there.

The image of that narcissistic albino fainting upon the discovery still warmed America's heart, making her smile.

"It's been so long, though," said America in a soft voice, though she knew that it was a lame excuse.

"It'll only get longer."

"Why in fuck's name are you smarter drunk than I am sober?"

Even thousands of miles away, America could still see her brother smirk.

"You said it, not me." He yawned again. "Anyway, don't beat up Japan. 'Night, Ali."

"'Night, Mattie," America sighed. She pressed the **call end** button and hailed a cab.

While the blonde had been ready to chew Japan out, the sight of him on the veranda bowing as his face practically glowed from blushing seemed to just make all of America's irritation and anger whoosh out of her.

_Looks like he's already put himself through the wringer,_ she thought. _No need for me to do it._

"Hey, Honda!" America called jovially as she headed up the trail passed the gate up to the house. It was large, and the atmosphere was always calming, America usually trying to find any excuse she could to visit.

Remembering that, a week didn't seem so long anymore.

"America-san, I apologize for lying to you."

"Aw, it's fine." America's throat was already beginning to itch, indicating that she was going to have to renew the charm soon lest her voice suddenly jump up an octave and give her away. "Sure, I was a little mad at first, but it's cool."

Straightening, Japan's blush eased, and he looked relieved at the news. "Thank you, America-san."

Japan showed America to her room even though she'd been staying in the same one for years. Japan then left America to unpack, saying he was going to finish preparing tonight's dinner.

The small bottle of oil was in the blonde's carry-on, having been allowed since it was just a fifteen milliliter bottle. America unscrewed the black lid and placed her index finger tight over the hole, shaking the bottle. She then used that finger to draw the symbol over her throat to keep her voice deeper. There was no spell she knew of to give the appearance of an Adam's apple, but that was fine.

In the kitchen, Japan tied his white bandana to his head to keep his silky, black hair back. He truly felt terrible about having lied to America, and it had actually been Germany's idea. He'd done the same thing with Italy many times to keep him from being late.

He rather enjoyed having America here anyway, and heat began to rise to the short man's face as he got to work on dinner, fixing up katsu curry with black curry and rice. He would usually take Alfred to a nearby McDonalds when he would visit, and Japan decided he'd probably take him there tomorrow.

Even though America had said he understood, Japan still wanted to do at least that to show his apology.

Seeing as Kiku preferred to cook from scratch, dinner took a while, America smiling as he entered and knelt at the low table by the windows at the far end of the room. While many of his people had higher tables with chairs, Japan preferred his low table with cushions to kneel on when eating.

"Smells good!" Alfred praised with a large smile, ocean blue eyes sparkling.

Hoping he wasn't blushing, Japan gave a small smile as he got down two plates from the pantry.

"Thank you, America-san."

"Ya know," said the blonde, getting up to get the boiling water before Kiku could, "you really don't have to keep adding 'san' to my name anymore, Japan. We're close enough, right?"

Having to look down to meet Japan's hazelnut-brown eyes, America smiled as he poured the water into the cups that had already been brought out.

The heat returned, but Japan looked away as he put the food onto the plates, not wanting the American to see. Luckily, he was already taking the tea to the table.

"Uh…" Japan swallowed, hesitating.

America had said this to him in the past, but Japan just had been unable to bring himself to not use an honorific with his name. Maybe Alfred was used to being so familiar with names due to his culture, but Japan still even used honorifics with Germany and Italy.

Sitting, Alfred sighed. "It's fine. Whatever's comfortable. Just letting you know."

Bringing the food over, Japan smiled and nodded, though he wondered if the blonde really felt it was fine.

He came whenever he could find a reason to do so, and he always smiled when around him. Did America feel they were just that familiar? Japan never objected to America adding no honorific at the end of his surname, though he'd gotten onto him for calling him 'Kiku' once in the past.

Japan decided to push the thought from his mind, not wanting to dwell on it. Not now at least.

Unfortunately, that night, those thoughts were what stirred him from sleep, and he combed his fingers through his hair as he headed for the kitchen. Maybe he'd have a nice cup of tea and look at the moon. It would be nearly full tonight, and out here, such a sight was breathtaking, even after so many centuries of life.

As he passed the backdoor, however, Kiku stopped, noticing that it was partly open.

_Curious_, he thought, keeping his steps quiet as he walked, muscles tensing for a fight even as his mind said that there shouldn't be anyone to fear.

In all his years, no one had ever tried to rob him, and in the backyard were a few hot springs, which was why Japan had purchased this house in the first place. His friends greatly enjoyed them after a long flight, and that thought made Japan relax some as he remembered that America was likely suffering from jet lag.

_Ah, yes,_ thought Kiku, kneeling by the door and peeking out. The blonde was there, his glasses fogged up and eyes closed as he leaned his head back. _He couldn't sleep most likely and needed to relax_.

At least Alfred wasn't like Arthur, hearing noises and seeing beings that weren't there.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Kiku shook his head. _I shouldn't be watching America-san_.

He was about to get up when he noticed movement and looked up instinctively.

Japan nearly fell over at the sight.

Now sitting at the edge of the hot spring was America, but… It _couldn't_ be America!

Feet still in the water, the blonde bent back, eyes going to the starry sky. The face was definitely the American's, but the body… A slender neck connected to broad shoulders, and the arms angled back to keep the blonde propped up were athletic-looking, strong.

The person Kiku no longer recognized stood, the new angle showing him hips not much wider than the trim waist, but ivory breasts was no longer visible as the person reached for a nearby towel. The legs were long and thin, moving up to—

Right then, Japan's eyes widened even more as heat exploded into his face, and he instantly whirled to where his back it the wall by the back door, one of his hands going to his chest as he tried to catch his breath. Had he really just been staring at…?

No! He-he wouldn't! He would never dare do such a thing!

Finding his breath, Japan finally closed his eyes, having to breathe through his mouth.

"A-Amer…" _America-san… he… _she_ is…_

Kiku couldn't wrap his mind around it.

As he tried, the sliding door opened all the way, making his eyes go wide again, his heart feeling like it had just stopped for a second or two.

Deep-set blue eyes met his brown ones, and America's mouth fell open as her face quickly took on a bright shade of red.

Japan felt great despair upon the realization that the first thing he noticed was that America was now wearing clothes.

One hand frozen at the crown of her head from when she'd begun to push her hair back away from her face, America's jaw worked, though no sound came. Her heart thundered so hard within her chest, she briefly wondered if having one's heart fall out was contagious.

The two remained silent for some time, and then America finally looked away, face hot as she crossed her arms, not realizing the gesture accented the shape of her chest. She had left the binder in her room, thinking Kiku would have been asleep. She'd gone for a dip in one of the hot springs _plenty_ of times without getting caught! Why the hell did tonight have to be different?!

"I… guess I have explaining to do," muttered the American.

The charm had worn off an hour ago, leaving her voice higher and with a husky edge. It made her sound like she used to be a smoker, and it was a side-effect from using the charm so often.

Hearing America's real voice seemed to make Japan's blush deepen, and, right on cue, the kettle's shrill whistle sounded from the kitchen.

Clearing her throat, America fast-walked into the kitchen, and Japan finally scrambled up to his feet, his politeness taking over as he waved for the blonde to sit down as he retrieved an extra cup and tea bag.

Sitting at the table, America kept her hands in her lap, glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose as her eyes stayed downcast.

She was about to take a sip of green tea when Japan finally started to ask the question she'd been dreading for the past two centuries:

"How… how can you…"

"Be a girl?" she finished, exhaling heavily before taking a sip of tea.

She'd never wanted coffee more before now, especially the way Ireland would prepare it.

"I've been dressing as a guy since I was a kid," she said.

"So…" Japan blinked rapidly, looking like he was still trying to get his mind around this new information. "Who else knows?"

"Canada and Lithuania." America took another sip. "Prussia too, but that was a fluke. He showed up without letting Mattie know, and I was outside trying to find Kuma. We thought he'd run off, but he'd just fallen asleep under Mattie's bed. With Lithuania, though, when he was staying at my house, he walked in on me. The _one_ time he doesn't knock—"

She had to bite on her tongue to keep from rambling.

Looking confused, Kiku inquired, "Wh-what about England-san?"

America's laugh sounded awkward, and she scratched the back of her head. "Kinda tells ya how good of a parent he was, huh? Back in Jamestown, I nearly broke his arm throwing him out of the room so I could dress myself for my baptism."

A bit of blush returned to Japan's cheeks as his eyes went to the black-colored table. Neither America nor England spoke much of those days, so it showed trust that the woman was willing to share that story with him, he thought.

He wondered about Lithuania as well. How much had he seen?

There was a small stirring in Japan's chest at the thought, but he crushed it. He was even guiltier than the Baltic state, he was sure.

"How long have you been disguising yourself?" asked Japan after a while, looking down at his tea.

"Um…" America took a long sip of tea, eyes going to the large window by the table. "I don't remember the exact number. We… we didn't really keep track of the years back then, not really. It was…"

America paused again, and Kiku was about to assure her that she didn't have to answer if she was uncomfortable when she continued:

"We were with a tribe in the plains when I first started dressing like a guy."

Japan's eyes didn't leave America's face, and his mouth fell open slightly.

As little as America spoke of his days as England's colony, she spoke even _less_ of her days before she'd been found by Finland and Sweden.

Most assumed that had been when she'd first appeared, even though there had been small comments here and there that suggested otherwise—France had even once claimed to have heard America and Canada whispering to one-another in what must have been one of the tribal tongues.

"Canada got to go watch the hunting party with the other boys," said America in a soft voice, sounding like this was the first time she had ever relayed this story. "I had to stay at the camp, though, and I hated it. I wanted to go too, so… um, our-our mother helped me dress like a boy, even cutting my hair. She said some of the wisest people in the tribes didn't have just one true gender, so she… she encouraged it. Usually gave me names that meant 'twin-spirit' or 'two-spirit' too.

"Then, as a colony, everyone just assumed that I was a boy, 'cause, well, why wouldn't they? And I never felt like correcting them. I also saw that I could be treated so much _worse_ as a girl in that society than where I came from, so I just kept pretending. I was used to it, anyway. I never really thought myself as just one or the other. I kinda feel like both most times."

"H-how about your voice?" Japan inquired.

"Um…"

Looking up, Kiku saw color return to America's face.

"That's from one of the tribes too," she murmured. "My mom showed me how to make it, saying I might want it when I got older. It's a type of oil, and it makes my voice lower for eight to ten hours. It depends sometimes."

Japan didn't really understand, but the way America shifted showed she didn't really want to go into specifics about the oil, so he let it be.

"And…" Japan still felt very awkward, and the heat returned to his face whenever he locked eyes with America, still able to see her from when she'd been getting out of the hot spring. "And you just never told the truth."

Looking out the window again, America shrugged. "Like I said, I don't really see myself as just one sex or the other, so I'm not _totally_ lying…" America took another sip of tea. "But, yeah, pretty much. It always just seemed like it'd be too late, I've been doing this for too long to tell them now, but then it just goes on longer and longer."

Her eyes met Japan's but then dropped back down to the table. Did she know he'd seen her outside?

Kiku could feel his blush deepen at the thought.

"Well, you don't have to keep lying now," he said finally. "The others will not come here for six days."

Nodding, America let out a long, slow breath. She felt relief towards that. Her heart was finally beginning to slow down to a normal rate, but she still felt very awkward.

Yet, it was nice not having to pretend right now, not anymore. She liked that Japan knew, and she smiled at him.

The next day, the two were at a store, America having only brought guy clothes with her. She didn't dress in feminine clothing often, but she admitted (grudgingly) that she enjoyed dressing up once in a while.

America wore the first thing she and Japan had bought out of the store. The white button-up shirt's sleeves puffed up at the shoulders somewhat, and while it was tighter than her usual wear, it was comfortable.

The black cropped vest over it made it cute, though America hadn't been sure about the lace at its hem at first—it had been the sale woman's silver tongue that had talked her into getting it.

The skinny jeans were surprisingly comfortable as well, though the only ankle boots she'd been able to find in her size had heels. Luckily, they weren't very high, but standing at nearly six feet in height barefoot, it made her very aware at just how short Japan was in comparison.

"Thank you," she said to Japan as they got ready to head back to his place.

It was a nice day out, and America readjusted the black headband being used to keep her hair away from her face. Her features could not really be classified as either feminine or masculine, America often calling herself plain while Canada had once called her androgynous-looking.

It made it easier for her to play as one way of the other, something as simple as doing her hair and putting on certain clothes changing her look dramatically, and the way Japan kept glancing her way the entire time during their shopping trip, it was clear he'd noticed this.

"You're welcome, America-san," he replied.

At the house, America put her things away, still happy from the McDonalds lunch Kiku had treated her to as well as the day overall.

It had felt weird wearing a bra at first (the boutique had been the only store Japan hadn't entered with America), but she had grown used to it as the day had worn on. Back home, she usually just wore sports bras; one of the few times she'd go outside dressed as a girl would be for jogging.

After dinner, America brought in _The Conjuring_ DVD into the living room.

"America-san—"

Shaking her head, the blonde headed towards the TV. "You always try suggesting a different movie, but I'm telling ya, this is awesome!" She got the DVD set up, hearing Japan sigh. "The director also directed _Saw_ and _Insidious_ so it must be good! I was gonna watch it with Mattie when it came out, but he kept making excuses to weasel out of it."

"I wonder why," Japan murmured with another sigh, having had to put up with America many times in the past after watching some horror film.

Coming to the couch, the blonde asked, "Huh?"

Jumping slightly, Japan hurriedly replied, "Nothing."

He started to smile as America sat close to him, bringing one of the pillows to her right close to her chest.

He swallowed and turned his eyes back to the screen as America used the option to skip straight to the main menu so the movie could start. The beginning reminded Kiku a little of when he'd had to sit through _The Amityville Horror_ with America a number of years ago.

When the ghost attacked Andrea, America was practically on top of Japan, curled up tightly and still clutching the pillow.

"Crap, this is scary!" she exclaimed later on. "No! Don't go in there!"

There was no point in trying to keep up a personal bubble when America put in a horror movie, which she would never watch alone but always felt the strange need to watch anyway.

_You don't have to watch,_ thought Japan, allowing the blonde hug him tightly when Lorraine fell through the floorboards. _You don't have to watch._

He'd gotten tired of trying to get that through the American's thick skull, though, and he had to admit that this made him jump more than some of the other movies—though even America hadn't been too scared of _The Woman in Black_ when Japan would make _Harry Potter_ references, the blonde having joined in with a huge smile.

"I _told_ you not to go in!" shouted America, her outburst being what made Japan jump rather than the sight of Bathsheba's ghost. "I _told_ you!"

America was very warm as her arms wrapped around his shoulders, chest pressing against his arm and knees drawing up onto his lap. The pillow was on the floor now, and Japan forgot all about her sex and just leaned into her embrace as the movie went on.

When the movie ended, America wiped a tear from one eye, forcing a smile as she still trembled.

"Heh-heh." She put the pillow back and stretched her arms over her head, trying to look nonchalant. "Great huh? Told you."

_You didn't have to watch_, thought Japan, able to see the blonde's fear clearly.

A good bit of her hair had come free, so she readjusted the headband, looking like she was about to embrace Japan again before stopping and looking away, blush kissing her cheeks.

"Well, g'night!"

She speed-walked to her room, Japan falling back onto the couch for a moment before going to put the DVD back in its case and get ready for bed.

_I… wouldn't have minded…_, he thought as he pulled the blanket over him.

When sleep nearly took him, the door slid open, revealing a still-trembling America wearing the same oversized white T-shirt and grey sweatpants from last night. The headband was gone, leaving her bangs to fall over her face like how Japan had always seen her.

"Um…" America had her hands up, the tips of her index fingers coming together in an anxious motion. "D-do you mind… i-if…?"

Propping himself up on his elbows with his eyes barely open, Japan processed the question, mind groggy from having been so close to sleep. This was a normal-enough request following a horror film, but as Kiku began to gain more of his thinking ability, he remembered that it was different now with him knowing America's true gender. She, however, seemed to have forgotten this little detail.

America seemed to falter due to Japan's hesitation, and the Asian nation suddenly sat up, blinking quickly as he assured, "I-it's fine, really. Come on in, America."

The blonde blinked in surprise but then smiled. "Thanks, Japan."

She closed the door behind her and walked around to the other side to lie by Kiku, curling up under the blanket.

"It was just a movie," Japan yawned, lying back down. "You don't need to be scared—Ow!"

America had kicked him in the back of the leg, and when he rolled over, he saw she was pouting, the image actually cute with her glasses off.

"I'm _not_ scared! Heroes don't get scared," she declared in a sure tone before rolling over, though she still scooted a little closer to Japan's side, making him blush as his lips pulled into a smile out of their own accord.

The next morning, America's face was nearly touching Japan's, her lips parted slightly and one arm underneath the pillow. Japan smiled and got up carefully, making sure to not bother her while he went to prepare some breakfast.

The omurice were almost done when America emerged from the room, stretching her arms over her head and stumbling back to her room to retrieve her glasses.

"Good morning," she yawned when she came into the kitchen. "I can always help with something."

"No, that's okay." Japan smiled as he slid the omelets onto the plates.

With how often the girl ate out, Japan was fearful she had ended up with England's cooking skills.

"Oh, alright."

The sudden feel of her arms sliding over his shoulders made Kiku tense, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up straight.

"Thanks, Japan."

She sounded happy, and he could tell that it was much more than just letting her sleep with him last night. He was dealing with her normally after discovering her most well-guarded secret, and that meant much to her.

"Y-you're welcome, America."

As Japan began to turn around, omurice still on the counter, he found his lips brushing America's. A spark skated over his skin there, heat forming and moving downward, condensing in his chest, then belly, and then moved downward still.

Neither was really sure who leaned in first, but before they knew it, breakfast was forgotten, one of Japan's hands finding America's, their fingers intertwining as his other moved to the small of her back.

When the kiss broke, the heat was like liquid fire flowing through Japan's veins, hot but very much pleasurable. His breathing was shallow, and he was sure his face was as flushed as America's, her lips swollen, red, and glossy.

"A-Amer… ica…" Japan had to catch his breath, his head light and heart speeding—though it felt more like a flutter than a beat. "I-I am so—"

More shocks flew through Japan's body, his head feeling even lighter when those soft lips returned to his, taking his bottom lip between them for a moment before they parted once more.

"Now there's nothing to be sorry for," she said, cheeks rosy as she smiled.

It was hard for her to think, and this was probably the first time food was the farthest thing from her mind.

There was heat filling her instead, and her head felt like her brain was made of air. Her hand was on fire, but it was like one that bubbled from within and expanded, a giver of life rather than pain.

At the small of her back where his other hand still touched, there was that very same flame, pulsing and spreading slowly—agonizingly so, and she wanted more touch to make it spread faster.

Japan began to pull away, but his dark eyes never left America's. He had to keep his head inclined to meet her eyes, but their major height difference seemed to not matter.

He gave her hand another squeeze before sliding his fingers from hers. "I'm… very happy you are here, America."

"I'm glad you tricked me then."

Quickly, Japan turned around to grab the plates, face still burning. He felt a last stroke at the back at the back of his neck, the touch sending tingles all the way down his spine. It made him almost want to curse the blonde nation, having that much control over his body, but a larger part of him enjoyed her holding that power.

When Japan sat down, America leaned forward so that her lips barely pressed against the skin right by the corner of his mouth, and she smiled brightly at the rising blush. He was so cute when he got like that, and the woman had to fight the urge from pushing her hands under that pale blue T-shirt.

She'd had feelings like this before, certain parts of her body burning, throbbing, but he hadn't known her secret. No steps could have possibly been made in that direction.

Now, he did, but it wasn't like America could just _jump_ him!

Much as she wanted to…

Ugh, why did this kind of thing have to take so much time?

Japan was a move-slowly sort of guy, and as much as America was sure he'd "scratched his itch" before, it was hard to imagine.

With America, she'd gone out on numerous occasions over the years to get that kind of relief, but this was different. Very much so, and no way in hell she was going to screw things up just because she hated to wait.

To her, she'd been spending all this time with Japan, coming over whenever she could find reason, and he had, many times, returned the favor, enjoying his stays at America's house when he was able to find time (maybe _make_ time?) to visit.

To her, all that rolled into getting to know Japan on a deep level, developing a type of relationship she didn't have with any of the others.

For him, though, she was forced to admit that finding out her secret might have been like starting that whole thing over again.

Right?

Ugh, of all the things to overthink about!

"Do you like it?" inquired Kiku, seeming to be wondering whether the look on the blonde's face had to do with the food.

Blinking, America returned to Earth. "Oh! Yeah, of course!"

She smiled as she ate, and with her bangs free to fall over her face again and her T-shirt mostly-able to hide her figure, it wasn't until she spoke that it became clear what her sex was. She said she didn't feel completely one or the other, but Japan still hesitated, angry at himself about the kiss yet very happy it happened.

After all, she had kissed him back, telling him there was nothing to be sorry about.

Yet, if Japan pursued, then would it only be due to her actual sex having been revealed?

That wouldn't be fair to America.

Japan felt torn.

By the afternoon, the feeling hadn't abated, but since the weather was very nice out, he thought maybe he should suggest something to get them out of the house.

Dressed in a white tank top and her usual baggy jeans, America lounged on the couch reading _Batman: The Killing Joke_. Her bomber jacket was draped over her torso like a blanket.

"America."

Looking up, the blonde smiled. "Yeah, Honda?"

"Um… It is really nice out. Would you be interested in a hike?"

Getting up, the blonde smiled, setting the comic onto the coffee table as she got up. "Sure. Sounds great!"

She had to pull up her bra strap as she walked towards the front with Japan, and she only glanced at her jacket once before deciding that she didn't need it.

The sun was bright outside, but it wasn't too hot, the breeze twirling about and making the emerald leaves dance as the two walked up a narrow, dirt-and-rock trail.

They remained silence, both acknowledging the awkwardness of it.

At one point, however, Japan's hand brushed America's, so she decided that if Japan wasn't going to make the first move, she would, intertwining her fingers with his. He jumped at first, but his thin lips then curved into a small smile, and warmth balled up in the woman's chest as her heart thudded.

Silence stretched on, but it didn't feel quite as awkward anymore to America, her hand filled with warmth and a tingling sensation that travelled up her arm. She wanted that feeling to spread, heart quickening even more at the thought. Yet, she managed to keep a good handle on staying patient, though it was growing increasingly harder to keep from just pulling Kiku aside off the trail and letting her hands and lips explore—

_Stop that_, she ordered herself, eyes closing for a moment as she inhaled deeply through the nose.

Her face felt hot, and America really hoped her blushing was not too noticeable.

Or, at the very least, Japan's politeness would keep him from commenting on it.

As the incline began to steepen, Japan finally decided to break the silence:

"America-san—"

_Oh, we're back to 'san'_, thought America glumly.

"—do you have another human name you like to go by?"

Japan spoke carefully, sounding like he had thought about inquiring about the names America's mother had called her but had thought better of jumping onto that minefield.

Maybe not a _minefield_, per se, but the subject was still very sore to the blonde, so she appreciated it.

"Never really thought about it," she replied, eyes moving up to the sky. "England pretty much gave me a list of common names and I just chose one at random 'cause I couldn't read yet. Mattie calls me 'Ali' when we're alone, though, so you can call me that if you want."

She smiled down at Japan, who tried for a smile back before the heat returned to his face, making him look away again.

"So the 'F' doesn't really stand for a girl's name?" asked Japan, still sounding shy and like he was torn between curiosity and respecting boundaries. "I-I know you have said before it stood for 'Freedom', but…"

Eyes moving back to the sky, America let out a long exhale.

"Yeah, I say that just 'cause it makes everyone stop asking. It doesn't stand for some name I woulda chosen if I were to come out to all of them as a chick, though. I'd probably just keep 'Ali' since it'd be easier, it being so close to my guy name and all."

She stopped for a moment, realizing she was starting to babble, so she took in a breath, the air crisp and clean the higher they went. Kiku glanced her way but stayed quiet, waiting patiently for the answer.

Looking down at the ground, America clutched Japan's hand harder without realizing as she murmured, "It stands for 'Fontaine', okay? Back when I was a kid, France looked so sad about not being able to be my big brother, I asked if it was okay I used a name from his place as part of my name. To make him feel better, y'know? England doesn't know about this, by the way. Not even Mattie, and France, _thank God_, never brings it up."

Lips parted slightly, Japan watched America's eyes stay on the ground, glasses beginning to slip down the bridge of her nose. Her blush had receded to just some red coloring her cheeks, and while her lips were stretched in a grimace, her eyes shone like she missed those days.

Just as Japan would watch the full moon and remember when he was young and had been found by China. There was still some animosity between the two Asian nations due to certain parts of their past, but, while he refused to ever be the first to admit it, there were times Kiku missed spending time with Yao.

"I… think that is nice," said Japan, thumb going over the back of Ali's hand.

She had always been one that wanted to try and make others happy, at least, by what Japan had always seen.

Even when the meetings took place in New York City, America would be late, getting on everyone's nerves and earning a long lecture from the collective shouts by Germany, England, and sometimes either Austria or Switzerland if it was a World Meeting.

Yet, when Japan had decided to try and figure out why the nation was late even when the meeting was in her home, he had been pleasantly surprised to find America bringing large amounts of food around various parts of the city—soup kitchens, shelters, churches, and random homeless people she would pass by.

America had never told anyone at the meetings about this, though, and Japan had seen no point in confronting her on it or telling anyone else if she chose not to do so.

Chuckling, Ali replied, "Thanks. Um… right of left?"

Looking ahead, Japan saw that there was a crossroad ahead.

"Which way do you think?" he asked.

"Um, I guess right."

The road on the right took them on a more level path, and Japan could hear the sound of running water, though he could not yet see the source.

"I'm really glad we came out here," said America when silence had fallen between them once more. She had never been one that enjoyed 'peace and quiet'. "It's nice."

"Yes," Japan agreed, seeing a bridge ahead as they followed the trail as it curved to the right.

It went over a stream, the water clear and sending mini-rainbows where the sunlight hit it. The water went around larger rocks and over smaller, smoother ones, and America smiled as she pulled Japan towards the bridge at a faster pace.

"Wow!" she breathed, looking over the edge of the bridge once they reached it.

Her hand stayed in his, and they both enjoyed the view, neither really realizing they were getting closer.

"Your home's so beautiful, Japan," America marveled.

She'd said that on many occasions, but Japan always felt flutters inside his stomach when she did. The feeling never died, never even ebbed.

"Thank—"

Sparks skated across Japan's lips as they met America's, and he took a sharp intake of breath at first touch, caught by surprise, but he drew nearer, inclining his head as one hand reached up Ali's back and the other ended up beneath her top.

Heat expanded and contracted in a rhythm that kept growing in tempo as it rolled from his lips, to his chest, and downwards. More sparks were added, intensifying the heat as one hand moved up the back of his head, long fingers combing through his hair as the other hand slowly slid down his back.

She pulled away too soon, lips red.

"I'm sorr—"

Reaching up, Japan's palm rested on the back of America's neck, bringing her back down so their lips could meet again. His teeth gently took the blonde's bottom lip before they parted, and Japan had to reach deeply for the will to keep from grabbing her again.

"Now there is nothing for you to be sorry for," he said, echoing Ali's words from this morning.

Bright blue eyes sparkling as she smiled, America murmured, "Guess not."

During the rest of the walk, the two walked closer to one-another, and as the trail began to wind back down towards the entry, there was a small clearing with a few stone benches, the two resting on one for a while before heading back to the house.

America rested her head on Japan's shoulder as they sat on the bench, the breeze toying with her hair. She scooted closer to Kiku upon feeling his hand come to her leg, just above her knee. The sun didn't warm her nearly as much as his touch, and it was also nowhere near as addicting.

The day seemed to flow just like that stream beneath the bridge, and America's head felt so light by evening, she almost thought maybe she could float away at any moment.

Hot cocoa on the low table in the living room, the two were on the couch, a movie (a drama, which Japan had insisted upon when America had tried to push for _The Last Exorcism Part II_) playing.

As the credits began to roll, America's head Japan's lap, the Asian nation looked over and moved her hair away from her face, smiling as she yawned. His lips brushed over her temple, and she closed her eyes at the touch before moving her head and repositioning herself for their kiss.

America wasn't quite sure when it happened, but she was (happily) surprised when she found herself on her back, Japan on top of her. Strands of his silky hair brushed along her cheeks and jawline as they kissed, and America was reaching under Kiku's shirt as his hands began to slide beneath hers, his fingertips cold and shooting what felt like static through her torso.

The shocks scattered up towards her chest but then began to trickle downwards, America bridging up as their kiss parted for a fraction of a second as the tank top was tossed across the room, Kiku's shirt coming off right after.

Pushing herself upwards into a sitting position, America ended up being the first to break the kiss again, bringing her forehead to rest against Japan's.

"Are you…?"

Japan kissed America lightly between her eyebrows before meeting her gaze once more.

"I was unsure at first if you were," he whispered, one hand coming up to the back of America's neck.

"I am." Her hands went to his lower back.

Their lips met again, America's tongue sliding over Kiku's teeth before they parted, his fingers tracing over her skin.

He was gentle, as if he were requesting permission before America would move as an invitation.

She loved the feel of him, the smell of hot cocoa mixing with the scent of green tea that seemed to always cling to Kiku's skin. All of her senses seemed to mix as the night moved on, the lighting shooting through her and raising her heat higher as Japan's hands and mouth moved, teasingly so.

She wanted to get to know him, learn every part of him, and she wanted him to know every part of her.

America had always hated the thought of letting herself become vulnerable. She was a hero. She was supposed to be strong in every aspect, and that meant keeping many things about herself hidden. Knowledge gave power, and people having power over her meant her own was relinquished. It gave way for betrayal, but America trusted Japan with everything she had.

Gasping, America's mind was slammed back into the present sensations, her body burning hotter and hotter, she wondered briefly if she felt like fire to the man somehow able to lift her up, back on the wall and hitting the painting above the couch. He kept hold on the back of her thighs as he came up, his mouth taking hers before it moved downward, slowly along her neck.

Soon, she was lying down again, Japan's teeth teasing a nipple, static shooting through the woman. She could feel sweat beading between and underneath her breasts, body coiling tight and hot, fire ready to explode into an inferno.

One hand had been slowly moving up Ali's inner thigh, and more static racked through her as one finger moved over her swollen and throbbing clit, hand soon replaced by his tongue. He kissed the lips, tongue moving in and sending more waves through the woman.

The heat and electricity seemed to fry America's senses until there was only Kiku in the universe there with her.

She tried to reach for him, move to give back the pleasure, but he held her down, smiling, silently telling her to wait.

He tasted like her when his mouth found hers, and Ali's back arched when his fingers entered. She made a low moan against their kiss, not wanting the night to end.


	2. Chapter 2

The next three days were filled with bliss, and Japan smiled at the sight of America in bed next to him, the sheets tangled around her body. Her hair was a little wavy, still damp from their time in the hot spring last night.

Her lips were parted slightly, and she looked at peace. Japan had to carefully move her arm off of him so he could get out of bed and put on his dark blue yukata to cover himself.

Over the past three days, America had listened to Japan's past and had embraced him from behind when he had turned away, still feeling uncomfortable showing as much emotion as he had.

He had learned more about what Ali remembered from her days with the First People tribes, and Japan had kissed away her tears when she had spoken of her mother.

He had been surprised to realize that not only did America know how to cook, she was actually pretty good at it.

Her impatience and habit of jumping through steps sometimes made some of the end results… _interesting_ to say the least, but she tried and admitted that most of the food she donated to charity was stuff she had made herself, trying out various recipes from around the world.

Tying his yukata, Japan left the room and nearly fell over in shock upon entering the kitchen.

"_Ciao_, Nihon!" sang Italy, waving as he sat at the low table, the window behind him. "We took an early flight!"

Next to him, Germany gave a nod, icy blue eyes level and thin lips a straight line as usual.

It smelled like they were drinking coffee, and Japan's heart thundered within his chest, remembering that America was in his room, unclothed and unknowing of the two new guests.

No one was supposed to show up until this afternoon at the earliest, and America and Japan had both thought they'd have a few hours before she would have to put on her binder and usual clothes.

"Very good to see you here," said Japan, keeping himself from seeming as if anything were amiss.

"I apologize for our coming early without warning." Germany gave the grinning Italian a look.

It was a look that said it had been Feliciano's idea, and Ludwig did not like deviating from a plan. He especially did not like dropping in unannounced, whereas Italy had never had such qualms. Usually, Japan found the trait rather endearing. Right now, though, it was annoying as hell.

Taking a step back so he could turn and quickly head back into his room, Japan said, "If you ex—"

Ali's voice came from the hallway: "Kiku?"

It was followed by a loud yawn, and the Asian nation inwardly swore.

Germany gave Japan an incredulous look, and the shortest of the three nations felt his face grow hot as Italy gasped.

"Japan! You have a g—"

Mouth hanging open, Italy's golden-brown eyes widened, and Germany started to choke on his coffee, brown liquid sloshing over onto the table as he set down his mug.

In the doorway next to Japan was America, dressed only in a scarlet top with one of the thin straps slipping over one shoulder and matching under-shorts with lace at the hems. Soon, her face also matched her outfit, and she was gone when Japan blinked, the man looking from the spot she'd once stood back to his friends.

"_Was zum Teufel_?!" Germany boomed just as there was a banging sound from a back room, America probably running into something in her haste.

Immediately following the sound was "Oh Jesus H. Christ!" as Italy questioned, "Mr. America is a girl?!"

Pinching the bridge of his nose and looking like he was trying very hard to keep up his stone-like façade, Germany muttered, "_Gott_, _mein Bruder_ was telling the truth."

As Japan scuttled over towards the counter to pour two more cups of coffee, America re-entered the kitchen with jeans and her bomber jacket on, and she was now wearing her glasses and headband as well. Italy stared openly, which America seemed to look like she was trying to ignore, but Germany only kept glancing every few moments, trying (and failing) to take her in subtly.

"So the damned albino _can't_ keep his trap shut," Ali growled, sitting down at the head of the table so she was directly across from Germany with Italy to her left. She crossed her arms, keeping the jacket closed so her chest was covered.

"Not when he is drunk, no," Germany responded, quickly going to get a washcloth.

He dampened it and cleaned up the coffee he had spilled as Italy asked, "You and Japan really close, M—Ms. America? You looked like it how you were dressed. Pl-please don't get me wrong, you are very pretty and I bet Japan thought—"

One of Germany's hands slapped over the Italian's mouth to shut him up, and Japan dropped the two mugs he had recently filled onto the counter, a stream of words coming from him in a hiss. Something told America he'd never uttered those words, at least not in a good long while.

Her head was on the table, glasses pressing against the bridge of her nose. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Japan clean up, the mugs both still whole.

Germany muttered something to Italy, but Ali was sure the small brunette didn't understand how far his foot had gotten into his mouth.

Truth be told, America wouldn't have realized, not only how bad it was to ask such a question, but how bad it was considering the current situation. Only now, with her being under the harsh glare of the spotlight at the moment, could she see the thickness of the tense and awkward atmosphere.

_Yep, pretty easy to read when you're the one being directly affected_, she thought, teeth clenched as she slowly sat back up.

"Thank you," she whispered to Japan, who had poured two new cups of coffee.

"_Kinishinai de ne_," he responded, eyes on the table.

After rinsing out the rag in the sink, Germany washed his hands and sat back down, the thickness of the atmosphere growing, though Italy still looked around as if still confused on why his question had been so bad.

Finally, Ludwig just slammed his mug down, but it must have been nearly empty with nothing spilling out at the sharp motion.

"You cannot _possibly _expect neither of us to ask about what you have been doing lying all these years!" he shouted, eyes unable to meet America's for more than a few moments at a time.

"More 'hoping' than 'expecting'…," muttered Ali before taking a long sip of coffee. "Fine. I'd been dressing as a guy since before England found me, and I just never planned on stopping. Until now apparently."

"That's it?"

America gave a nod, bringing her mug to her lips. "All you really need to know."

Taking a sip of coffee, Japan gave a tiny smile at that response. He had learned so much about Ali over the last few days, much more than any of the other nations were going to be able to get out of her. She had allowed herself to be vulnerable to him as he had to her.

The interaction from that one night had been unexpected, and he had thought he might regret coming onto her so strongly, but she had glowed afterwards. She had been amazing, and even afterwards—

He put a stop to the train of thought.

_Not here_, he told himself, overly conscious of Italy's and Germany's presence.

The next twenty minutes were silent, but then America left after setting her mug into the sink, announcing she was going to take a bath. Japan was forced to stay in the kitchen and nod, mentally cursing his friends for arriving early.

He wasn't quite sure when such a primal desire had risen in him. There had been times over the years he had taken a girl to bed, though he often regretted giving into momentary lust.

He had even felt the beginnings of these stirrings when he'd felt genuine attraction towards others in a deeper way, though his relation with Greece had not lasted long, and he had not even acted upon the attraction he'd felt for England at one time, having decided the Brit's tendency to see and hear things could be too much to put up with.

Now, though, he didn't want to be apart from America for long, but seeing Italy and Germany here, he was reminded that she would have to head back to her place after the meeting. She had only been here _this_ long due to that lie to keep her from being late.

The thought made his chest ache, but there was nothing that could be done. As countries, they had duties to their leaders and people. Even their very relationship could be swayed by a matter of strong popular opinion among their people. It was something Japan did not want to think of. They would figure it out; they would learn.

Even before this, both would find time to visit the other whenever possible, and phones and computers helped make the world so much smaller even if they didn't and couldn't replace physical contact.

"Nihon, when did you find out Ms. America was a girl?" asked Italy in that innocent tone, sounding like he'd been wanting to talk earlier—Germany had probably instructed him to keep quiet at least until America left.

Coffee finished, Japan pushed away the cup. "I discovered the news the night she arrived."

Feliciano gave a childish laugh. "She's really pretty! I never realized. It's like the stories Prussia tells, right Doitsu? About when he found out Hungary was a girl?"

"Hmm?" Japan had never heard this story.

Having met Hungary-san on several occasions, he knew she could be quite a scary woman, especially with that frying pan of hers, but she had always dressed in a feminine way, at least from what he'd seen.

"_Ja_," replied Germany with a nod, looking like he was trying not to smile. "_Mein Bruder_ found out when she had gotten injured at one time. He only talks about it after a few pints, however."

"Ms. Hungary likes telling the story," laughed Italy, swaying back and forth. "You think everyone else will find out later today?"

"It looks like there is really no use to keeping the secret now," replied Germany, looking like he was still a little uncomfortable with just how the secret had come out.

Japan hadn't liked it either, but at least she'd had _something_ on.

In the bathroom, America had the hot water up to her neck, knees sticking out the way she was seated. Her glasses were sliding down the bridge of her nose, fogged over and hindering her sight rather than helping it.

When she felt she had been in the water long enough, it was lukewarm, her fingers like pale prunes and stomach finally ready for food when it had been the last thing from her mind not long ago.

Dear God, of all the times…!

Face hot again, America emptied the tub and patted herself dry before putting on some clothes. There was no more use with even attempting to pretend to be a guy anymore.

Aside from Canada and Japan, there was now Prussia, Lithuania, Italy, and Germany who knew.

She might as well, though she wasn't going to throw out her guy clothes. She still liked wearing them, and what she had told Japan still held true. Just because she wasn't going to lie about her sex anymore, didn't mean she was suddenly going to start wearing skirts every day.

No way in hell.

And, actually, she might keep her binder. There were times she actually liked wearing the thing, or, at least, it was preferable to having the C-cup breasts that sometimes made her have to buy the next size up just because they wouldn't fit into the shirt or dress otherwise—her height added to this issue.

Maybe it was just because she'd gotten used to wearing it almost every day, but no matter the reason, she was going to keep it.

Looking in the mirror, America tried for a smile, combing her hair before pushing her bangs back away from her face with the headband. Maybe she'd keep her hair short as well, or maybe let it grow towards her shoulders. It tended to get wavy when long, which got worse in humidity, so she'd probably keep it no longer than her shoulders.

She could always ask Japan what he thought.

The smile growing at the thought, America pulled on a crimson shirt with capped sleeves and a V-shaped neckline, black on the right side and fading, looking like an angel's wing.

She'd already found her angel, and whatever happened later today, he'd be there by her side. The thought warmed her heart and made her feel elated, more like she could handle what was coming.

After tugging on the black jeans, America cleaned her glasses and left the bathroom, hearing Italy rushing towards the front door.

"Big brother France is here!" he called excitedly, and America went pale, the surety from earlier draining along with the color.

Coming down the hallway, Japan offered a small smile, taking her hand.

"It's okay," he whispered, and she bent down so their lips could meet.

"Thank you," whispered Ali, taking a deep breath as she followed Kiku out into the main area, where the front branched off to the den and kitchen on the right and hallway with the bedrooms on the left.

Germany was outside with Italy, who had just gotten done hugging France when America passed through the open door, Russia's purple eyes widening as he spotted her first. That annoying smile was wiped straight off his face, and while he said nothing—didn't even flinch—it gave America a feeling of satisfaction similar to having seen Prussia pass out when he'd made the discovery.

"Jap—" China's eyes suddenly widened at the sight of Ali, jaw dropping for a moment. "_What the hell, aru_?!"

It was then the rest looked up, Canada, over by Russia, shaking his head but obviously trying his best to keep from laughing at the reactions.

"_What the bloody hell_?!" demanded England, looking both shocked and outraged.

At the same time, France shouted something in his native language America felt to be glad had been drowned out by Arthur's words. The way he gawked suddenly made her wish she'd brought out her bomber jacket. And maybe a can of mace.

"Ms. America's a girl now!" Italy cheered, hands going up in the air as he stood on one foot, Germany face-palming and shaking his head.

This time, Canada couldn't keep a few chuckles from escaping as he left behind his suitcase to come up onto the porch and place his blazer over his sister's shoulders.

"Not what I was suggesting, but still effective," he whispered, sounding like he was actually enjoying this.

'_Nice twin' my ass_, thought America, frowning at Matthew.

France was the next to come up towards the porch, mouth now closed but hand coming up.

"That hand gets any closer," growled America through clenched teeth, "be prepared to lose it."

The Frenchman froze again, this time seeming to be in shock at the pitch of Ali's voice.

This was going to be a long meeting, and it was only going to get worse when it came time for a _World_ Meeting.

Lord only knew how much and what kind of drama would incite at her appearance when simply sneaking in a hamburger due to being hungry had somehow started a shouting match between the western European nations (mostly between England and France, surprise, surprise), a brawl that ended with Prussia getting whacked several times by Hungary's frying pan, and Canada having to hold back America before she and Mexico ended up in another fistfight.

This wasn't going to be pretty at all.

Finally fed up, America whirled around on one foot, hand no longer in Kiku's as she clenched her fists at her sides.

Behind her, Canada looked at Japan for a moment before following America, who shouted back, "Yes, I have a vagina! Get over it!"

The shouts started right then, Germany and Japan working together to calm everything down as America went into the living room, collapsing onto the couch. Static shot through her body as she remembered that night here, nearly falling off in surprise when Matthew moved her legs over to sit down.

"That was one way to tell them," he finally said, trying for an assuring smile. "I don't think anyone will be able to move onto the actual topics for the meeting, though."

America groaned, vaguely hearing something about England wanting to storm in and grab her by the hair or something like that. Huh, Ali had always figured he'd be pissed, having been her guardian and all that yet never discovering her secret, but she hadn't known he'd be _that_ angry.

Well, this was normal for him anyway, she figured. He tended to blow up really hot before quickly cooling into a steadier stream of anger where he tried to let logic rule his mind, though there would no doubt be several outbursts here and there as time moved on.

Hopefully he didn't get drunk anytime soon.

"So what made you decide to finally come out of the gender closet?" Matthew draped his coat over the arm of the couch when Ali threw it at him.

"Japan found me out," America finally admitted with a heavy exhale, sitting up to where she faced where the TV was. "He'd gotten up when I went to soak in one of the hot springs."

Outside, Yao was spouting something in Cantonese—while America didn't really know much, she knew enough to differentiate it from Mandarin—while Francis shouted in French. Ivan was silent, the creepy smile probably back in place as he watched the fracas.

Canada blinked, smile gone as he tilted his head slightly, the curl shifting over his face. His lavender-blue eyes looked thoughtful, and he got up and kissed his sister on the head.

"I'll go try to help them cool off," he said, heading towards the door. "I think I'll talk to Japan about something too."

When he was gone, America sighed and leaned back, head touching the wall. This "cooling down" would take a while, and she prepared herself for the onslaught of questions sure to come her way.

_Wonder what Mattie wants to talk to Kiku about…_, she thought as she stared at the ceiling.

_**I think Canada could be a protective brother if he wanted, what do you guys think? Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the story! :)**_


End file.
